Chapter 366 of 372 · 67 words · ~1 min read

C.

Satan bowed, and was silent. "Well, if you, With amiable modesty, decline My offer, what says Michael? There are few Whose memoirs could be rendered more divine. Mine is a pen of all work;[561] not so new As it was once, but I would make you shine Like your own trumpet. By the way, my own Has more of brass in it, and is as well blown.[hs]